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<title>For Her Soul Burns by idiosyncraticWordsmith (literaryAspirant)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886941">For Her Soul Burns</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryAspirant/pseuds/idiosyncraticWordsmith'>idiosyncraticWordsmith (literaryAspirant)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Adventuring, Gen, Intrigue, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, dereliction of destiny, lone wolf to found family, my city now todd, playthrough fic, some alternative plot material</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:53:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryAspirant/pseuds/idiosyncraticWordsmith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Drakari has never asked for anything. Her options have never included asking. They have included submitting to others, taking what she wants, and running from what she doesn't want. This has worked for her so far, she would say. But there is a fire in her that has only ever grown stronger; and when destiny deigns to point its finger at her, she finds herself at the center of a prophecy she never asked to be part of--and refuses to submit to.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Deep breaths.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Deeply, slowly. Let the air come back into you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Air, the blessing of Kyne</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Feel the earth rocking under you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Earth, firm beneath your feet even as you run.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The blood pumping like water down a river.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Water, like the stinging tears in your eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> The warmth of life, returning, like an ember into fire.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Fire, burning in your soul.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> You did not ask for this.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> But when have you asked for anything?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Deep breaths.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The darkness faded slowly. She blinked once, twice, then twice more. Each time a little more vision came to her. She could feel her pupils adjusting to the washed out daylight of the north, the way it fell onto her fur. It was different than her youth. Years ago golden rays shone on her fur in a way that made her glow. Now the grayness of Skyrim fell onto her splotchy timberwolf like rain more than sunlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She smiled bitterly as she thought how much more she felt she belonged here than in Elsweyr. How much more welcome she was, even bound in rope and rags.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Hey, you,” she heard a voice say. She recognized a Nord across from her. Recognized him from the ambush earlier. The horse she was going to steal, until the blunderer rushed in like an idiot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You’re finally awake,” he observed. “You were caught in that ambush at the border, same as us—and that horse thief, there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She glanced, and there he was: the idiot who made a mess of everything. She could’ve been halfway to Hammerfell by now if he hadn’t thrown himself into things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Damned Stormcloaks,” he said, “I could’ve been halfway to Hammerfell by now if not for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She scoffed. It was taken for a sneeze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Empire was nice and lazy before you came along… you there,” he said, acknowleding her, “we don’t belong here, you and I. It’s these Stormcloaks the Imperials are after.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She tuned out after that. Already, she was planning what to do. Escape was too foolhardy, the Empire was swarming around Skyrim, and a prisoner would be hunted more viciously than a migrant. She hadn’t actually even attempted to steal the horse, and she wasn’t a rebel; once that was made clear, she knew, she’d be leaving in short order. This wasn’t a trouble, she decided; it was a free wide further eastward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Ulfric Stormcloak?” She heard the thief remark. “But if you’re here… oh gods, where are they taking us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> That gave her some cause for concern. </span>
  <span>Her ears perked around and her tail swished anxiously, wapping the Imperial driving the caravan, who gave her a glare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She felt her heart racing. She forced herself to take deep breaths. Just like teacher used to tell her. Like she tried to teach her siblings. Before…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She closed her eyes, and the darkness held her close as visions of the past soared past her awareness. She felt fire in her soul again. She could feel her claws threatening to tear into the skin of her palms, her fists were so tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home,” she heard the first man say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Home was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “End of the road,” he said, and she felt the wagon stop, and the weight shift as everyone stood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Dazedly, she followed along. She struggled to keep herself from shutting her eyes as the visions and unwelcome memories tried to sear themselves into her mind, but the sight of the executioner helped to ground her. Her heart raced faster, and her breath was growing harder to control, like a colt growing to a stallion. She glanced around cautiously but quickly, trying to figure out any means of escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The horse thief had the same idea. The arrow in his back told her how well it went.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You,” the Imperial register spoke to her. She snapped her attention to him. “Come forward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She did so. She fidgeted against her bonds. She looked to the prisoners, all of them lined up so neatly, so calmly. She was sure they were proud, trueborn Nords, ready to die. She had never known a Nord before now. In that moment, seeing Stormcloak Nords on one side, accepting their death so passively, and a Nord Imperial to the other side, meting that death out, she decided she hated Nords.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Who… are you?” He asked her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “...Drakari,” she managed to say through the bitter taste of spite and hate in her mouth. She knew it might be her last word. She tried to spit out the fire that had burned within her all her life with it. She failed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> The Nord Imperial rose an eyebrow. “Are you with one of the trade caravans, khajiit?” He asked her. She was about to answer, hoping it might change something. “Your kind always seems to find trouble...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She knew then nothing would change anything. She was nothing to these people, and all her actions would be nothing—and because of that, soon, she would be nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Captain, she isn’t on the list, what should we do?” The Nord asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Forget the list. She gets the block,” the Imperial captain ordered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> He began to mutter some generic apology, but she only turned to the block wordlessly, ignoring him. She resolved to save her spit and bile for the final moments. She wouldn’t go down without a fight. She’d slip out from the block, cut the bonds on the headsman’s axe, pry it from him, slip the sword from the captain’s belt, something. She had to catch them off guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> She saw the first Nord die. She wondered how much his smiling ancestors cared about him as his corpse cooled under the clouds of Skyrim, muddied by the boot of an Imperial.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They called her up. A sound echoing around the mountain distracted them. She finalized her plan. It was desperate and barely cohesive, especially to her hatred-dazed mind. She was brought to the block and shoved down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Ax comes down, slide away, take the ax. Improvise from there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Another sound. Ignore it, ignore it, breathe, breathe, breathe, the ax goes up, breathe breathe breathe!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> With eyes terror-wide she saw the shadow of death rise over her and land on the tower. All was shouting and chaos and confusion. The ax was frozen in place, but she could no longer see it. All she could see was the burning red eyes of the shadow of death looming over her as she and it met their gaze, for within the hateful inferno of its gaze, she recognized the same flame that burned within her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> And then the shadow spoke, and the sky was broken.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Crash!</em>
</p><p>Drakari rolled twice and then froze on all fours as hell burned around her. She took in her surroundings. The inn was stable but not for much longer, especially after she came crashing in from the roof above. She saw the Imperial Nord across the way with some villagers. Her eyes narrowed, but she ignored them. She had just gotten away from one batch of hated Nords. She would not join another.</p><p>With swiftness, she sped out of the inn as it began to fall apart. She bolted out, evading Imperial soldiers trying in vain to kill death itself as it soared above. She swore she could hear the shadow circling above laughing at them. She laughed, too, seeing Imperials shooting arrows like children slinging rocks. The stupidity of their impotence could be nothing but funny to her.</p><p>Suddenly, the creature attacking landed directly in front of her, though it stared down the street as she huddled in the alley. She saw now that it was no mere shadow: it had form, weight, mass. Once more she saw those burning red eyes, though, and knew fear. More than just fear, though. She knew kinship.</p><p>Once more the shadow spoke, and though the words were nonsense to her, they meant so much.</p><p>
  <em>“Y</em>
  <em>o</em>
  <em>l to</em>
  <em>o</em>
  <em>r shul.”</em>
</p><p>Her bones ached as the syllables rumbled from the creature’s throat, the purest cascade of flame crashing out with them. The fire was beauty and violence and in that moment she could not tell the difference between the two. As quickly as it came, though, the creature left. She could not afford to remain in the daze of awe it had placed her in, and the scent of burnt flesh reminded her of the horrors she was living. She returned her thoughts to survival, as ever she did.</p><p>She eyed the town gates. It was already aflame—how smart it was to build gates out of wood, she thought—so she knew another exit had to be chosen. She saw Imperials making for the keep; why go there, and be trapped within?</p><p>Unless, she realized, they knew a way out.</p><p>“Prisoner!” She heard a voice say. She saw the Imperial Nord looking at her from the door to the keep. “Come with me!”</p><p>She looked over, and saw the Stormcloaks making their way into the keep from another door. She matched eyes with the Nord who had offered nothing but mumbled apologies as he watched her go to die.</p><p>Wordlessly, she sent flames from her hand, etching a wall of flame between the two of them, before rushing in after the Stormcloaks. The spell’s embers paled in comparison to what raged within her, but they sufficed.</p><p>Shutting the door to the keep behind her, she found herself face to face with a small group of Stormcloak rebels. She looked at each of them, tail twitching in anticipation, her eyes slit with focus. She knew little of these people, save that they despised foreigners, and there was no denying she did not belong to this place. Her bonds she had broken free of during the initial chaos, but she was still in rags and unarmed save only her claws. She resolved to make use of them if need be.</p><p>“Siblings in chains,” a voice called out, “ought to stick together even we freed.”</p><p>The Nord from before, on the wagon, approached her from the small group.</p><p>“I am Ralof,” he said. “I’m glad you made it.”</p><p>The building shook, and the creature’s roaring sounded close.</p><p>“We have not made it yet,” Drakari told him. “The Imperials fled this way. Do you know how they mean to escape?”</p><p>“Not yet,” Ralof admitted, “but we can find out.”</p><p>“We’re not taking this damned cat, are we, Ralof?” A Stormcloak complained. “It’s bad luck to bring khajiit along.”</p><p>“She stood with us at the executioner’s block,” Ralof told his comrade, “she’ll stand with us as we flee.”</p><p>The keep shook more, enough to unsteady the Nords, though Drakari stood gracefully among them, her reflexes enough to keep her steady. She started down the corridor leading deeper into the keerp.</p><p>“Speak less, move more,” she commanded. “Many Imperials entered this place. Be silent and we may avoid them.”</p><p>“I’ll feed those bastards to that dragon myself,” a Stormcloak muttered.</p><p>Drakari’s ear fluttered as they stalked down the keep’s hallways. <em>Dragon</em> , she thought. <em>Dragon…? Yes, that’s what it must have been…</em></p><p>Legends come to life, just in time to save hers. Or end it, with more flair. The gods did seem to have an interesting vendetta against her. She chose to take it as a sign she was doing something right.</p><p>“What in Oblivion is a khajiit doing here, anyway?” A Stormcloak asked. “We’ve plenty of thieves in Skyrim.”</p><p>“Maybe she’s a trader,” one suggested.</p><p>“Like I said,” the first went on, “plenty of thieves.”</p><p>“Quiet, you two,” Ralof ordered. “Please, don’t pay them any mind.”</p><p>Drakari said nothing.</p><p>“I don’t believe I heard your name,” Ralof said. “The Imperials didn’t see fit to blare it. Probably too busy bragging about catching King Ulfric...”</p><p>“My name is unimportant,” Drakari told him. “What is important is escaping this place.”</p><p>Ralof took the chastising gracefully, and spoke no more, except with his comrades, about things Drakari did not care about, and about their escape so far. Eventually they reached something promising.</p><p>“Down here,” Ralof suggested, indicating a stairway. “The only way into Helgen Keep is from inside Helgen—so whatever way out the Imperials are taking, it must run underground.”</p><p>“Why not just go back?” A Stormcloak suggested as Drakari walked to the threshold of the stairs. “No big quakes in a while. That dragon is probably gone by now.”</p><p>Before anyone could respond to that, the building crashed and ruptured around them. The suddenness and force caught even Drakari off guard, rocking them off their feet and sending them all spilling to the ground. Ralof had managed to shift his weight forward towards the stairs and fell away from his comrades. Stone upon stone fell downwards from the ceiling, with one spot coming completely down, directly onto the rest of the Stormcloaks. There was nothing to be done; their bodies were broken like glass under the collapse. What was more: the way back was now blocked.</p><p>“Damn it…!” Ralof sputtered, crawling over to his fallen brothers. For a moment, he tried to remove the landslide, pulling rock by rock on his knees. He gave up within seconds, hanging his head down and beating his fist onto the ground. “I’ll hike that dragon’s head onto a spear if I ever get the chance!”</p><p><em>You likely won’t,</em> Drakari thought, already making her way down the stairs. <em>If you do, I doubt it’ll be the dragon that loses its head...</em></p>
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